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Who the hell would want to play tennis with someone they could whoop so badly in the first place, then want to train them?
BORING.

Yes it is largely boring for him, but he does it to be sweet, because I ask him to. He plays regularly with someone much, much better than me for actual practice. I really love playing with him - I learn a lot, and it gives us time together. It's eagerly taking on the role of "trainer" that I think would turn this from a fun, bonding recreational activity to a rapid descent into the fiery pits of Hades.

Yes it is largely boring for him, but he does it to be sweet, because I ask him to. He plays regularly with someone much, much better than me for actual practice. I really love playing with him - I learn a lot, and it gives us time together. It's eagerly taking on the role of "trainer" that I think would turn this from a fun, bonding recreational activity to a rapid descent into the fiery pits of Hades.

I hate reading through laws... It seems like legislators intentionally choose the most convoluted, unclear, and often downright stupid way of wording laws that they can think of.

Most recently, while reading through some knife carry laws I noticed that apparently rather than rather simply stating what is illegal, the legislators seemed to think that it would be a better idea to say all knives are illegal to carry, and then write a giant "but" followed by 3+ pages of exceptions...

And then there was the one where a certain type of pocket knife is okay to carry... as long as it isn't concealed. So yeah, you can carry your pocket knife... as long as it isn't in your pocket... *rolls eyes*

It's kind of strange, turning 30. Completely arbitrary, and yet in some psychological way, not. I don't think I could ever be at a point where I felt like I'd done enough… death can be fucking scary at times, depending on the perspective. An odd thing. Does that make sense? I want intensity above all, but sometimes she is a harsh mistress.